Meanwhile, Thomassian never spoke, and scarcely ever moved from the place where he sat, or lay, his face turned away from the rest. He ate little, and they could not see that he slept. Once or twice they noticed that his tears were falling silently. But not even a groan or sigh told of the anguish of his soul. The days seemed unending, but still they drew towards an end. Ay, and far too quickly for those who looked forward with unutterable dread to what was to come after! The only breaks in the monotony were the jailor's daily visits with bread and water. Generally he came and went without a word; but on the evening of their last day of grace he broke the silence. "You Giaours had better be learning your 'La illaha ill Allah' to-night," he said, "for if you have not got it off by to-morrow morning, you die like the dogs you are." Then he shut the door, and left them to themselves. There was a long silence, only interrupted by a few sorrowful "Amaans!" It was broken at last by the youngest in the room, a lad of some eighteen years. "I would not be afraid," he said plaintively, "if I thought they would kill us at once. Were it only a shot or a sword-thrust, that were easy to bear. But to be killed slowly--cut in little pieces--or perhaps like some----" "Hush, boy!" Kaspar Hohanian interrupted. "Whatever they do to us, it must be over sometime. And then--there is heaven beyond." "Ay," said an older man, "there is heaven for _us_, after a brief agony. But, friends, we have not ourselves alone to think of; there are our wives and children." "True," another chimed in; "if we die, they starve." "If we die, they do worse than starve," the former speaker resumed. "To _what_ fate do we leave our women, our girls? You know it _all_, brothers. Whereas, if we turn Moslems, they will be safe, and under protection." "You are speaking well," observed a third. "And I cannot think, for my part, that the Lord Jesus will be angry with us when He knows all. Has He not given us our families to take care of? Does not His holy Apostle say in his Letter, 'If any provide not for his own, and specially for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse than an infidel'? If we _must_ deny the faith, and be infidels, it seems as well to do it one way as another." "And I have my old father to think of; he will die of grief," a sad voice murmured. "'He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me,'" said another voice, unheard till then amongst them. Thomassian rose up in his place, and looked around him on the group. His whole appearance was changed--transfigured; his look firm and fearless, his eyes shining as if with some inner light. "My brothers," he said, "you think I have no right to speak to you, that it ill becomes _me_ to take upon my lips the words of my Lord and Saviour. And you think that which is true."